The Captain Morgan is many things - early starts on cold wet mornings, battling howling sou-westerlies to get a hook anywhere near where fish might be, sandy lunches, siestas in the lee of a four-wheel-drive, getting rid of excess bait before it rots completely in the back of the Surf, listening to the bragging of your mate who caught a fish, wondering if the surf rescue boat is nearby when you head for the outer bank. What it is not about is gambling.
Sure, contestants harbour dreams of winning a car or an overseas holiday. There would be something wrong if they didn't. But if that was all they were there for they wouldn't bother fishing. The people who fish the Captain Morgan are there to catch a winning fish. The spot prizes, however the winners are determined, are a bonus; certainly they help sell tickets, but they are not the raison d'etre for the contest itself. When the weather turns foul, as it does from time to time, many out of towners pack up and go home. The prospect of their number being drawn for one of the major spot prizes isn't enough to keep them there if they can't fish. The same thing happens after a cold wet day on the beach, many people who don't have fish to weigh heading straight home.
Even if some do perceive the contest as a giant raffle, how on Earth can a poker machine trust, an outfit that represents the most addictive form of gambling in this country, the industry that without doubt destroys lives and families, claim that such events, including A&P; shows, are undermining its 'business?' Is it claiming ownership of the gambling fraternity? Can it not hack competition for people who are easily parted from their money? Not that that applies to many of the 90 Mile Beach contestants. The majority of them seem to plan, and save, with commendable enthusiasm for their week on the beach. Not for them the temptation to spend the grocery money in the hope of winning a jackpot.
And what makes this trust think the fishers are its customers anyway? Poker machines, as we well know, tend to be found in the greatest concentrations in poorer communities. That's where these trusts practise their particular form of philanthropy.
It is the poor who are deliberately targeted by those who dress up their 'industry' as good works, claiming that the poker machine proceeds that go to good causes balance the harm these machines do.
What about the good that these nefarious A&P; shows and fishing contests do? If they give away a car, admittedly as an inducement to enter, they will be, without exception, maintaining something that is of benefit to their community.
Kaitaia's A&P; show is unlikely to be one of the events that has captured Internal Affairs' attention, but the Captain Morgan surfcasting competition is. So what harm does it do? Nothing that the writer knows of. What good does it do? It is responsible for injecting some $2.5 million into Kaitaia's economy every year. Traditionally around 85 per cent of contestants travel from outside the district. They spend money on food, alcohol, accommodation, fishing gear, bait, maybe even poker machines. Many bring their families with them. They don't fish, but enjoy their holiday. The most creative mind in Internal Affairs couldn't begin to argue that the Captain Morgan harms the community. To declare that it is undermining poker machine takings is simply silly.
Surely, at the end of the day rules are supposed to benefit society.
Perhaps one day Internal Affairs will explain how this crackdown does that, and how its apparent protection of the poker machine industry makes life better for the people it serves.
The Captain Morgan organisers are confident that they will have no difficulty complying with this edict, and that those who fish next year won't even notice.
That might be a bit optimistic. Just what compliance will involve is not yet clear, but while there is no doubt that the contest will take place, that some people will catch prize-winning fish and some will take home major spot prizes, contestants may have to swear on a Bible that the money they are spending has not been taken from the clutches of a poker machine trust that doesn't appreciate the competition.
Most of the events that have had letters have gone to great lengths to become family-friendly. Certainly the Captain Morgan has, as did the Snapper Classic before it. That's all part of survival, and in the case of the 90 Mile contests ensures that all the spoils did and do not go to expert fishermen.
If there is anything deleterious to the community in that Internal Affairs might like to explain it. It might also like to ponder that five days on 90 Mile Beach with the kids is a great deal healthier than sitting at a poker machine for hours on end, and that if anyone needs support from sensible, rational rules it is those who are trying to do something for their communities, not the trusts that want to screw every last dollar out of the pockets of people who can't afford to lose it.